 he
journeys to the streets in years past have helped me to
"re-evaluate" my own approach and ministry with
the homeless thru Good Works Inc., our rural shelter
which serves the homeless in Southeast Ohio. I am
learning to ask the tough questions about what we may
need to change in our approach and attitude, and how to
go about doing that. Finally, I go to the streets in
order to experience how one feels on the receiving side
of street life: of the missions, of the common people,
and of the church's response to the homeless. It was not
until I felt vulnerable sleeping next to the man with a
knife in Lexington Kentucky a few years ago that I got in
touch with the reality of fear so many experience. It was
not until I experienced the lack of privacy that I fully
understood the necessity of privacy. It was not until I
was exploited personally in my day labor job stripping
tobacco that I fully understood the power of exploitation
and the vulnerability of the homeless. Furthermore, I was
able to see the potential in myself to behave like my
oppressors. Except for the grace of God, I could behave
like any one of the men and women I am about to describe
in this story. Each of my experiences (Akron, Ohio in
1992, Indianapolis, Indiana in 1991, Charleston, West
Virginia in 1990 and Lexington, Kentucky in 1989 have
helped me to gain a new point of view on the feelings of
strangers. "Do not oppress an alien or stranger; you
yourselves know how it feels to be strangers," the
Lord said through Moses in Exodus 23:9 (NIV),
"because you were strangers in the land of Egypt.
  I was dropped off around 7:15
p.m. into the Northeast section of Pittsburgh
Pennsylvania by my friend Ken Wagoner. Ken and his wife
Rosy are campus ministers working as missionaries with
the population of international students known as the
Mainland Chinese. I had met the Wagoners only once, seven
years ago, during the early 1980s when I worked with
International Students during one of the trips I took
with Chinese students to Washington DC. We have been
exchanging newsletters and respect ever since. I went to
Pittsburgh for two purposes, one of which was to attend a
seminar sponsored by the Navigators. The seminar was
required if I wanted to continue to teach a discipleship
class called the 2:7 series. I had spent Saturday at the
seminar learning about Jesus' call to discipleship and
the Navigators' vision to "know Christ and make him
known". But I had also come to Pittsburgh to live
"on the streets" with the homeless. It had been
a year since my last experience in Akron, Ohio and
Pittsburgh had become my next city of choice. It was by
divine direction that I found out at the last minute that
the Navigator seminar location was changed to Pittsburgh
and happened to coincide with my prayers about visiting
that city to become homeless by choice. Although this was
my fifth experience living with the homeless in shelters
and on the streets, I never quite feel prepared for the
uncertainties I always experience. I was later to
discover that this trip would prove to be the most
fruitful of them all.
As Ken Wagoner and I drove through the
city, the first homeless shelter we drove to was Harbor
Light Mission (sponsored by the Salvation Army). The
shelter was located in what appeared to be a very un-lit,
industrial section of town. There were no retail shops
for blocks and no sign of apartments or homes. All of the
buildings appeared to be warehouses of some kind. The
atmosphere looked very uncertain and uninviting. I felt
some real hesitations about being dropped off in that
neighborhood. So I asked Ken if we might drive on to the
shelter of my second choice, "The Light of Life
Mission". As we continued our drive through the
inner city, I observed pockets of people: young girls
standing on the street corner talking and waiting for
something; young men standing at the phone booth looking
for someone. I got a feel for the darkness of the inner
city. I felt anxious. |
